


over and over

by staticpetrichor



Series: ACOTAR prompts [9]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Songfic, kinda??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22379785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staticpetrichor/pseuds/staticpetrichor
Summary: i wrote this cracked out of my mind with many days of no sleep and many energy drinks consumedbasically im sorry in advance its a garbage fireheavily inspired by the song "break up in the end" by cole swindell which i heard and then my brain goblined out on a feysand au
Relationships: Feyre Archeron/Rhysand
Series: ACOTAR prompts [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1429963
Kudos: 36





	over and over

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this cracked out of my mind with many days of no sleep and many energy drinks consumed
> 
> basically im sorry in advance its a garbage fire
> 
> heavily inspired by the song "break up in the end" by cole swindell which i heard and then my brain goblined out on a feysand au

Rhys remembered the first time he saw Feyre with the kind of crystal clarity that only life altering moments are allowed to have. He had walked into that little dive bar, more than drunk, and had immediately found himself asking her drink and name. Not his smoothest moment but she’d laughed and told him anyway. **  
**

He remembered her smudged eyeliner and faded green tank top, those jeans that had clung to her hips in a way that made them look like the perfect place to rest his hands.

As the night wore on Feyre had hustled him shamelessly at shuffleboard. Had done it with an air of confidence and countless flirty winks. She’d beaten him so badly that the other patrons resorted to snickering behind their hands and, on occasion, cringing. In his drunken state he’d requested a kiss as a consolation prize. 

“A little something to help with the crushing blow my ego has been dealt, darling?” He had joked.

But Feyre didn’t take it in jest, had simply grinned and leaned in dangerously close, soft lips parting as she pressed them into his.

Not a true, genuine kiss but much more than the peck he’d been expecting. 

And when they’d left the bar, each heading towards their respective cars and homes despite neither wanting to, she’d typed her number into his phone and murmured, “Don’t be a stranger, Rhys.”

It was a command he had been quick to obey.

From then on they’d been damn near inseparable, date nights turning into weekends away, turning into lazy afternoons spent bingeing shows and laughing harder than should be allowed. It became movie theaters at midnight and museums at noon, the smell of acrylic paint mixing with crisp night air and the hint of jasmine that forever lingered in his room. 

It was a sensation like the sun on a spring day, light and warm. A sense of ease and utter rightness that couldn’t be found elsewhere. 

Needless to say it wasn’t long before Rhys asked her to move in, despite the concerns of his family.

_“You don’t think you’re moving just a little too fast?”_

_Rhys had scowled at his brother, it wasn’t the first time he’d voiced his concerns and knowing Cass it certainly wouldn’t be the last, “For Cauldron’s sake, just because we aren’t moving at glacial pace like some people doesn’t mean I’m some sort of reckless asshole.”_

_Cassian had snorted softly, unwrapping his hands with the ease of long familiarity as Rhys leaned against the gym wall, “I’m just saying if I had recently gotten out of a seriously toxic, long-term relationship and was all of a sudden moving in with some random chick, who also had just gotten out of a serious relationship funnily enough, you’d be just as concerned. If not more so.”_

_He had a point but Rhys sure as hell wasn’t about to say that. Cassian didn’t know Feyre like he did, didn’t know about that secret content smile she wore when painting, didn’t know that she loved donuts and hated scones. Hadn’t ever seen her nose scrunch up when she laughed in that particular way, always at something disgustingly cheesy._

_As for the prior relationships, well they were both content to let the past stay in the past. And that was good enough for him, at least for now._

_“Stop sulking, I’m allowed to be right sometimes.”_

_“I didn’t say you weren’t.”_

_“No, you just thought it very loudly.”_

_“Ass.”_

_“Just remember to keep your head, yeah? That’s all I’m asking.”_

_So, Rhysand had promised to think through their soon to be shared apartment, even if he knew nothing was going to change his mind._

He was glad he hadn’t listened to Cassian, even now.

Rhys had introduced her to his family a few days after that. If only to prove that they’d love her. And they did, just as much as he knew they would. She and Cassian were a troubling force when they combined their talents, too much alike in a dangerous sort of way. Immediately the potential prank wars and drunkenly created “masterpieces” flashed in his mind.

And of course within moments Mor’s legs were draped over her lap as horrendously embarrassing stories about their youth poured from her lips. 

Rhysand had been so damn excited that, when Feyre went to use the bathroom, he’d turned, wide eyed and near unsettled as he whispered, “I think I’m in love with her.”

“You think!?” Mor had half-laughed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Cass had smirked, mumbling something about how pissed Az and Amren were going to be that they’d missed meeting _the real deal._

Rhys, still somewhat reeling, had forced out a quip about how quickly Cassian had overcome his “moving too fast” misgivings. Fortunately, Feyre reappeared then and he was saved from having to further think about what it was he’d just said. 

It wasn’t that he regretted his spur of the moment words, it was that he hadn’t known just how real they were until he’d spoken them out loud. 

Even now they still rang true.

 _Especially_ now as he thought of yet another priceless memory. A night spent out under the country’s star-filled sky after his radiator had cracked and they were stuck waiting for a tow-truck. Rhys’ iPod was blaring a treasured song and Feyre had ended up straddling his lap for most of the hour long wait, her back against the steering wheel resulting in the horn honking a ridiculous amount of times but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Now the song’s chorus and her flushed face, their breathless gasps, the feeling of her fingernails digging into his shoulders, riding that fine line between pleasure and pain, were forever entwined. 

Not that he was complaining. 

Rhys would be lying if he said he hated how she had ruined his favorite song.

He’d kept it as her ringtone, a bit of masochism goes a long way after all. 

Years ago he’d read something somewhere about how everyone has one love that will forever be the one who got away. No matter how many times they wound up back together they were destined to fall apart. Something was constantly pulling and pushing them in and out of one another’s lives. They were pawns in the hands of a rhythmic yet tumultuous fate. 

It was the only explanation for this relationship that he could make sense of.

Even now, as he watched his phone light up, listened to that damn song play, he knew what would happen. Rhys would answer and Feyre would laugh that soft, intoxicating laugh as she asked if he was home. He knew he wouldn’t have the restraint to tell her no. 

She knew it too. If she came over, there was no way he wouldn’t let her in. 

They only did this when they were particularly lonely.

And that was okay. 

Rhysand didn’t answer the phone, couldn’t hear her voice just yet. 

He texted her as soon as the call ended.

_at home. feel free to swing by_

And she would. She always did.

⁂

Feyre laid beside him, half curled under his arm, messy golden-brown curls tumbling over his chest, stomach. His fingertips traced an invisible maze along the inside of her shoulder blade, a path designed for just the two of them.

She’d fallen asleep a few minutes ago, had pulled off her shirt and folded herself against him with a sigh, none of which was out of the ordinary. 

What was however, were the quiet words she’d whispered against his skin, “You always feel like home, Rhys.” 

And then she had promptly passed out. 

Leaving Rhysand’s heart to spasm in a painful sort of way as her admission replayed in his head. Maybe this is what soulmates were. Maybe they were simply people you’d always be drawn to, even when everything else wouldn’t work out. Even when it couldn’t be more than a raw, flickering feeling, akin to an exposed nerve. It would be more reasonable to think of it that way, he supposed. 

Because what if this was all they got? If this was _it?_

No, he still wouldn’t have any regrets. Because if he was given the chance to go back Rhys knew he would do it all over again. 

Over and over. 

Again and again. 

And in the end it almost didn’t matter that they would break up.

Almost.


End file.
